Ghost
by miraculousemily74
Summary: One-shot in which Bridgette Cheng doesn’t make it our of patrol one night. She and Felix are the nighttime Ladybug and Chat Noir, dealing with criminals and the likes. One night, one of them has a gun.


Bridgette Cheng's death had affected the entire city of Paris. The day it was announced was a day of clouds and rain, as if the heavens themselves were crying for her. Every single person whose life she had touched was at her funeral- they couldn't all fit in the cemetery. At the front of the crowd were her classmates, close friends and family members. Even Chloe and Sabrina had come, tears in their eyes and tissues in their hands.

Marinette, Tom and Sabine were all crying together, hugging each other in a group of three. Next to them stood Alya and Nino, both sobbing into each other's arms, Nino having known Bridgette since preschool and Alya being her best friend. Last but not least were Adrien and Felix, Adrien standing with his head bowed, silent tears dripping from his face.

Felix stood, still and emotionless, staring at the grave of his partner. Bridgette Cheng, all this time, had been Lady Nuit. His partner in crime, the girl he trusted with his life for four years. She was dead now because he had made a stupid mistake. He hadn't done his job- he hadn't protected her. Now, because of him, Marinette had lost her cousin. Nino has lost his sister-figure, Alya had lost her best friend, and Adrien had lost one of his first ever friends.

Felix had lost his partner, his crush, his best friend, the person he trusted most in the world. She was gone. Because of him.

He didn't notice when the crowds began to leave. He didn't even notice when Adrien tried to speak to him, begging him to step away from her grave and come home. Eventually his twin had just had to leave without him, stepping out from under Felix's umbrella and into the rain.

Felix closed his eyes against the gravestone and was immediately assumed with the stuff of nightmares- Bridgette, de-transforming from her Lady Nuit form. Her kwamk crying and begging her not to leave as Felix held her in her arms, that horrifying red seeping over her abdomen, making her skin grow paler and her smile weaker. The moment she reached up and stroked his face, saying his name and apologizing. The moment Felix realized that she knew.

She knew who he was, and she had never said anything.

God, Bridgette.

God, Bridgette.

He hadn't realized he had fallen to his knees until he felt the wetness of the grass seep into his slacks, and the dripping of his long-awaited tears on the ground in front of him. She was gone, rally gone, and it was his fault, his fault, his fault, hisfaulthisfaulthisfault.

"Felix," her voice whispered in his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, but the image of the light leaving her eyes as she took her last breath was too much for him. His fist tightened around the handle of the umbrella until his knuckles turned white and his hand began to shake with effort. His screams raged from his throat although his lips never parted, just an animalistic sound escaping his vocal chords, grating against each other in a painful way.

"Felix," she whispered again, and Felix could have sworn she was there with him. He opened his eyes, staring at the green grass. The rain had let up to a light sprinkle, the water on the blades of grass glistening in the new found sunshine. How dare the sun shine on a day like this? Didn't it know that the light had left the world already?

A pair of familiar shoes stepped in his line of vision- black kitten heels, almost like she used to wear. He blinked, sure he was imagining them, but they stayed in place. He quickly looked up, following his eyes up the pale legs and body of the girl standing in front of him, her hands on her hips and a frown on her lips.

"Felix," she frowned at him, her blue eyes sparkling with her mischievous nature. "Did I not specifically say not to miss me?"

He blinked up at her- it couldn't be. He had truly gone crazy, hadn't he? It was impossible for her to be there, and yet there she was, standing in front of him like an apparition, like the goddess she was- or rather, had been.

He scrambled to his feet, stepping away from her. She had the gaul to look offended at this action, her frown turning into a hidden smile.

"Well," she sighed. "Here I thought you would be happy to see me."

"Bridgette," he breathed. "How-"

She laughed, a beautiful sound that Felix had been sure he would never hear again until that moment. It sent chills down his spine, rocking him to his core. She must have seen his reaction, because she stepped towards him, hands out like she was about to touch him. Last minute she retracted them, biting her lower lip. It was such a familiar Bridgette action that Felix could have broke down crying yet again.

"Sorry," she said under her breath. "I'm still knew at this. Felix, I am dead. Make no mistake about that."

Any hope he may have had crushed inside of him like a soda can in a garbage truck. So he really was crazy, then. She wasn't actually here, in front of him, her raven hair shining in the sunlight like freshly spilled ink. Her eyes weren't really this blue, but rather a glassy grey, six feet below his shoes. He shuddered at the thought of her body beneath him, trapped in that wooden box. The thought ripped an odd noise from his throat.

"You're not crazy," Bridgette rushed on, waving her hands as if waving the thought away. "I'm- well, I'm not sure how to put this. I don't really think I'm a ghost, since as far as I can tell, you're the only one who can see me."

He stepped away from her, putting distance between them. He brought the heel of his free hand up to his eye, rubbing the socket like he could rub the image of her away. Closing his eyes only brought back the memory of him shaking her stiff body, begging her to open her eyes again. He quickly looked back at the other Bridgette- the fake Bridgette.

Not a trace of blood on her abdomen, nor a hint of death in her features. She looked as she always did, although somehow, slightly more muted. Like someone had put a filter over the lenses that were his eyes.

"Say something," she begged him, her slanted eyed crinkling at the corners pleadingly as she spoke. He swallowed hard, lowering his umbrella so the tip of it brushed against the dew of the grass.

"I... I'm sorry," he said to her. His voice sounded rough in his throat, even to him. It was the first time he had spoken in days. "I'm sorry that I killed you, Bridgette."

Worry filled the beautiful girl's eyes, and she clasped her hands in front of her. "Oh, Felix," she said gently. "It wasn't your fault. It was that man. If he hadn't shot me, I would still be alive. You didn't pull the trigger."

"I didn't help you, either," he shot back, aware that he was arguing with his imagination. "I just sat there and watched you die, and I- I should have-" he struggled for the right words, his mind drawing a blank.

She didn't say anything more, although her eyes travelled behind him, fixing on something. Felix turned, meeting his twin brother's eyes. Adrien looked sad, his emerald eyes rimmed with pink from his tears.

"It wasn't your fault," Adrien said. "You don't really think you killed her, do you?"

Felix looked back at Bridgette. She shrugged, gesturing for him to answer Adrien. Felix looked back at his brother. He supposed he really didn't see Bridgette's apparition.

"Maybe if I had taken her to a hospital..." he said helplessly. Adrien stepped forwards, perhaps to comfort Felix, before he seemingly thought better of it.

"Tikki told Plagg everything," Adrien said. "She said that if you had moved her, she would have died anyways. You kept her safe and loved as she- Felix, you did what was best for her."

"'Best for her?'" Felix echoed. "Was dying best for her? For anybody?"

Adrien winded at the word that everyone had been avoiding. "It wasn't your fault," he repeated.

Bridgette stepped into Felix's line of vision, in between him and his brother. He lowered his eyes to meet hers, his mouth settling into a scowl. She blinked up at him innocently, a smile on her face.

"I don't blame you," she said to him. "I would do it again, if it meant I could spend my last few moments with you."

He felt the heat of tears prickle his eyes again, and he turned his back to both of them. He wouldn't let either of them see him cry again.

"Leave," he said, either to her or Adrien, he didn't know. "I want to be alone."

He didn't hear Adrien leave, but he could feel that his presence was gone. When he looked back, Bridgette wasn't there either.

He dropped to his knees at her grave, brushing his fingertips over the words. Bridgette Zhi Cheng, beloved friend, cousin and daughter. 2001-2018.

She was with her parents now, he supposed. They had died in an accident when she was only seven years old, and he knew that she always secretly felt guilty for being the only survivor. She spent her entire life protecting others, making them happy, touching lives because her parents' had ended.

She didn't have to live with the guilt anymore.

Because she had passed it on.


End file.
